What
it is: Anger is manifested in the individual who spurns
love and opts instead for fury. It is also known as Wrath.

Why
you do it: You're wired for it. Also, the people around
you are pretty damn irritating.

Your
punishment in Hell will be: You'll be dismembered alive.

Associated
symbols & suchlike: Anger is linked with the bear
and the color red.

References

In The Canterbury
Tales, Geoffrey Chaucer called Anger "the fervent
blood of Man yquyked in his herte, thurgh which he wole
harm to hym that he hateth./ For certes, the herte of
man, by eschawfynge and moevynge of his blood, wexeth
so trouble that he is out of alle juggement of resoun."
(The Parson's Tale)

Medieval theologian Thomas Aquinas
said Anger is "the name of a passion. A passion of the sensitive
appetite is good in so far as it is regulated by reason, whereas
it is evil if it set the order of reason aside." (2, 158, ad 2)

The
Travelers' Guide to Hell
says
Anger is ruled by the sign of Mars. It points out that this is the
Sin most likely to harm other people, particularly when mixed with
another Sin. For example, Anger + Envy = armed robbery. Question:
write a short essay describing what Anger + Sloth might look like.

A little story of Anger.

One day, it became rather
important that I get from Washington D.C. to Miami, where a friend was
experiencing a certain crisis. Airfares were prohibitively expensive,
so I called our friends at Amtrak
to see if they could help me out.

They couldn't. In fact,
when I was finally allowed to talk to a human being after a wait of
over twenty minutes, I was put on hold a few more times while the customer
service agent got some coffee, rearranged her closet, regrouted her
aquarium, and took a Calculus class. Understand that I really really
wanted to get out of Washington D.C. at this point - that night, even
- and that each passing minute might have made the difference between
catching the night train, or not. No one wants to read someone else's
customer service complaint; suffice it to say that
Amtrak treated me with the care you would expect them to extend
to any convicted serial killer.

I was a bit peeved. I hung up. I didn't go to Florida, which turned
out to be perfectly fine. But the damage was done: my sales agent was
only guilty of a little rudeness, but I was guilty of the Sin
of Anger. And while she will probably eventually get fired, I
will baste in the fires of eternal damnation. All aboard. Thanks, Amtrak.